10.
Spencer was back!
Emily was dozing on the porch when The Man's car crunched in on the gravel and he climbed out, carrying a towel-wrapped, dozy Spencer with only his head—encased in a strange white cone—poking out.
"Spencer!" she yowled, hearing cats from everywhere come running.
"Daddy!" Nora wailed, almost tripping up The Man as he stopped and gaped at the sudden river of cats whirling around him.
"Alive Alive Alive Alive!" chanted everyone else happily.
But Spencer merely craned his head back in the towel and cat-grinned stupidly at her, his whiskers weirdly twitched and his eyes all unfocused. "'Lo Mil'y," he mumbled, wiggling in the towel. "Sss' Good… I can't feel anything, I am just a… head. A cat head. Juuust a head, oh no, oh dear…"
Emily blinked.
"Oh my Dog, he's broken," she exclaimed, horrified. "The Man took his brains out!"
"Oh no!" wailed the Others, all surging back in horror.
"What the fucking fuck fuck," The Man was muttering, dodging cats as he looked from one to the other, arms wrapped tightly around the towel. "What the fucking fuck, I did not rent out cat island, did I? I must have been unclear, apparently, 'full utilities' also means thirty fucking cats what the fuck."
"Are you okay?" Hotch asked Spencer, standing up on his hind legs and sniffing at the cat. "You smell very strange, cat."
"Thirty cats and a dog," The Man said. Jack appeared, yapping and spinning in circles when he saw Spencer was back. "…Thirty cats and a dog and that dog's dog. Oh, I'm going to need more steak…"
"I'm woooooonderful," Spencer slurred, beaming at Hotch. "And it's a Good Dog, looko, a Goodo Dog… Goody… Woody… are you made of wood? Do you float? I ate wood once. It hurt. Mice are tastier. Oh, Hiiii Emily, do you like my new head? They took my old one off and fixed it up and put it back and screwed it wrong and—" He had to pause to breathe and seemed to get distracted mid-huff, peering up at The Man and going mrrow?
"Completely broken," Emily announced gleefully. "Mad as a rabbit. Completely nutballs. This is wonderful."
"You're wonderful," Spencer corrected. "Uh oh, up I go, wheeeeee," and he was carried up the steps and into the house.
The cats sat in silence, looking at each other.
"Well," said JJ.
Hotch hummed, "I'm sure he'll be… himself, soon."
"I hope not," Nora said. "He seems fun now!"
Emily sighed. Well, at least he was back. "I'm going to go wash his ears," she announced, and flounced up and through the open door without a second-thought.
And, just like that, she was back Inside.
…
Bonk.
Emily kept her eyes shut, enjoying dozing on a nice soft bed.
Bonk bonk.
"You need to be careful of walls, Spence, your head is bigger now," she said sleepily.
"I am being—" Bonk. "Oh."
A woeful meow followed. She opened her eyes with a sigh and looked down at him as he walked in a wobbly circle that ended with him slamming the cone into the wall again.
Bonk.
"You're a catastrophe," she told him. He turned plaintive eyes onto her.
"But I'm your catastrophe?" was the hopeful reply. "I need to pee. I can't find any dirt. Do I pee here?"
He was looking at a pair of slippers. Emily eyed them.
"Sure," she said, and rolled back to sleep.
She had a reputation to uphold, of course.
…
"I have no idea what to feed cats, so here." The Man dropped a plate of food in front of them, sitting down with a huff on the floor and examining Spencer's bandaged side. "Enjoy."
The plate was full of… worms. Oodly worms covered in gravy like Emily's wet food used to have, except it was red and smelled sharp and there were round lumps of meat tumbled in it as well. Spencer leaned against Emily's side, looking down at the… food?
"Does he want us to eat that?" he asked Emily, still woozy but not quite as odd as he'd been. "I… I don't know if I can."
"It doesn't look dangerous," Emily mused, leaning down and sniffing the plate warily as The Man watched.
"No, I mean… I don't think I can eat it." This proclamation was following by the bonk of the cone smacking the plate as Spencer tried to dip his head. Another bonk as he flopped to the side and mouthed helplessly at the food, before rolling completely around and waggling his tongue towards it.
"Ah," said Emily.
"Ah," said The Man. "Oh dear."
"Just…" Emily examined the cone. "Do this." She mimed slamming her head forward into the food, stopping short of actually getting gravy on her face and neatly licking a ball of meat. It was surprisingly delicious, and she quickly used a paw to roll it over her side of the plate before he—
BONK.
"Good lord," said the Man.
"Mmmmmfmrrrow," said the plate of worms with Spencer's face imbedded into it, the actual words muffled by the cone. There was a sccrrrape of the cone dragging and catching under the plate and he popped back up, flipping the food into The Man's lap. "I was saying—oops."
They all stared at the food dripping into the carpet. Emily reached out a gentle paw and snagged her meatball back, tugging it close and barely holding back a delighted cackle at the mess.
"Oh, Spence, you're the Naughtiest," she managed, wheezing a little.
"Alright," said The Man. "Alright… alright… good god, Dave, don't ever tell anyone about this. Ever."
And as the cats watched, dumbfounded, he lifted up a long worm with his fingers and held it out, carefully lowering it into the cone and in front of the gravy-coated cat.
"Here kitty kitty," he said, "Open wide."
…
A Strange Thing happened that night.
Emily was busy cleaning gravy from Spencer—not an easy task—when a car pulled up Outside. That was uninteresting to her. Her belly was full, her Spencer was back, his brains seemed mostly intact, and his new head, although unwieldy, seemed to be somewhat functional. There was a soft bed for them to sleep on and maybe, just maybe, The Man was okay was petting.
But then the human who drove the uninteresting car spoke.
"Someone said they'd seen her here," said Elizabeth's voice, and Emily shot upright, trembling. She didn't know what they were saying, but how had Elizabeth found her. They'd taken the collar off! "You must have seen her—she's worth a lot of money, a lot. She's black and a pure-bred and I—"
"Sorry," The Man replied, cutting her off. "No black cats here. Just me and the dog, uh… Aaron. Aaron the dog. My dog, Aaron. I hope you find her though."
And that was that. Elizabeth left. The Man walked inside and looked at them both, his mouth all funny.
"I don't want cats," he said, walking away and then walking back and looking at them again, "I certainly don't want weird cats." And again, he walked away. Emily and Spencer waited, knowing he'd return. He did, with a final: "Did one of you bastards pee in my slippers?"
"I think he likes us," Spencer said sleepily. "And there's sauce in my ear."